A Hazel Haven

Chapter 12. 1

"Nice," Lawrence commented, eyes roving the place as he closed the door. There were pictures on the walls---artwork on closer inspection; a mini fridge hummed quietly in a corner alongside a standing fan; a reading table and chair was placed between the bed and curtained window, a polished bookshelf gleamed next to them. Overhead, the fan whirred and colored lights produced a relaxing ambience. The air, he sensed, was scented with stew. Or is it Jollof rice? He found himself hungering for whatever it was. "Your roommate went out, I suppose?" In a murmur, Lawrence said to himself. " Uhm, what's her name again?"

"Forgotten her name already," Grasping the rod leaned on a wall, Uche bent over to sweep up the curtain into an arm, wincing as the headache lodge forward, and slipped it in, capping both ends with finials after. " Too many girls in that head of yours?"

Indeed he had. He faltered. "I've never been good with names-a bad memory if you like to call it-- but in my defense I've heard it just once. Neither have we been properly introduced. You won't tell me?"

"It will stick better if you asked her," Uche said. She picked up the hammer. "The easy way is never the answer. There's no such thing as bad memory, just untrained. Although, it's dependent on certain factors, but improvement is improvement, and remembering a name is simple enough, even if you just heard it once. You simply weren't focusing."

"True," Lawrence nodded, pocketing his hands. "Not at that time. But it's not that simple. Sometimes there are just too many people."

"And yet you managed to remember mine. And I happened to mention it just once." Uche missed his wince as she reached over for the nails, but Lawrence snatched them up instead; they rose together, with him stepping back, and her fumbling for the curtain. "She'll submit the form tomorrow when she moves in. I've informed the main desk."

That means she's been up and about all week, he thought. "You should be resting."

"I'm resting enough," She held out a hand, palm up. "It would do your business a lot of good if you learned to, not just those you want to sleep with,"-- Lawrence's mouth opened then closed at her raised brow-" It's amazing how much importance people place on their names."

With a sheepish grin, he said, "I'll keep that in mind. Let me hang it up," and snagged the hammer before she could protest, got atop the stool. A nail was lodged in the wall, halfway through. He began hammering. "Any tips on how I can improve?"

"That's what the internet is for."

"Not everything it says is accurate."

"A lot are, if you check properly."

"Or, you could teach me," Lawrence gripped the bracket, evaluating its sturdiness, "I'll pay, of course."

"I doubt you'd pay attention," Uche remarked, her tone bland, and he smothered a smile. "I'm sure you'll figure something out, that's the whole point of having an evolved brain after all." She kept the curtain aside, hesitated for a moment. "Would you like something to eat?" Unsure that he'd heard correctly, Lawrence paused, turning to her with an incredulous expression on his face. Irritated, Uche repeated in Igbo. "O ga - amasi gi? Better? English isn't your forte, is that it?"

"No....i mean, I understand English perfectly," Lawrence chuckled half heartedly, distractedly, watching her scowl. In the privacy of his room, he'd dwell on her local accented lilt, but for now. "I just want to be certain I heard you offering to feed me this evening. What about your questions?" He added before she disappeared into the kitchen.

"While you eat."

Still baffled, he fiddled about readjusting, improving; meanwhile utensils clattered.